Watching the Watchers – Chapter 4
Standard Disclaimer applies – don't own them
A/N – a huge thank you to every one who reviewed! They really helped propel the next chapter along. There's one more chapter to go after this one so I hope to wrap things up to everyone's tastes! :-) And to sisterdear– thanks for the review: chocolate-chip cookies would be my preference if you could whip me up a virtual batch? Many thanks :-)
Thanks also to Blonde biatch, Julesand Lyn – I'm sorry I couldn't reply to you individually but I really appreciate you taking the time to review!
One thought flashed through Jess' mind as the grip on his arm tightened and his shoulder twisted painfully behind him so that at any moment, he suspected it would just pop out: don't let him take you. By no means had Clyde been the worst of his mother's boyfriends but regardless, Jess knew if living with them under normal circumstances was hard enough then returning as a captive with likely both of them either drugged or intoxicated, or both was terrifying.
With a sickening realisation, he knew that Luke, wherever he now was, would have no idea where to even start looking for him. For all he knew, Jess could have just randomly taken off somewhere. After all, since when had he shown any outward signs of affection to either his uncle or to Stars Hollow? Just the other day he had told Rory the whole town was filled with jerks. Then another thought swiftly followed: for all he knew, Luke may not even bother trying. For a moment, the sharp pain it caused in his heart, eclipsed the building ache in his shoulder and sides. Its intensity surprised even him.
"Come on," Clyde muttered, his confidence in the boy's cooperation increasing. He released Jess' arm from behind his back and instead, gripped it around his upper arm in a vice-like hold. His arm was given a sharp yank forwards and Jess stumbled a few steps as his feet moved unwillingly, to keep pace with his attacker. As soon as he registered that they were moving towards the door, Jess' instincts began to take over.
His arms were practically useless but with his left foot, he suddenly swiped low across the floor catching Clyde around his ankles and causing the bigger man to lose his balance. His addled brain quickly lost equilibrium and Clyde hit the floor with a resounding crash and angry exclamation.
"You little bastard!" he yelled, the flashlight falling to the floor with a resulting smash. The grip he had on Jess' arm however did not ease up and the teenager quickly found himself following his abductor to the floor. With all of his might, Jess wrenched his arm away from Clyde's mammoth digits and stumbled backwards as one force suddenly far out-weighed the other.
With the flashlight broken, the room was once more plunged into semi-darkness, only the light of the moon outside casting an ethereal glow across the room. Jess breathed a sigh of relief. Clyde could out-fight him any day of the week but at least Jess knew his surroundings better. Such a small space, in the rules of combat, wouldn't give him much of an advantage but his brain was also free from drugs and alcohol. Jess only prayed that would increase his edge.
Once the older man had hit the floor, Jess aimed a sharp kick to his prone form, eliciting another angry exclamation. Eyes fixed straight ahead, the boy made a run for the apartment door. It was still wide open and an easy escape route. However, before he had taken two steps, Clyde had recovered enough to make a fierce lunge for him. Jess screamed as he felt a claw grab his ankle and tug him to the floor. He fell heavily, sprawling in to something large and sharp as he did so. With the sound of rustling and tinkling, the Christmas tree toppled over, pine needles sticking painfully outwards.
"Damn it!" he exclaimed, fear increasing. His already bruised sides screamed in protest at the sudden impact as the breath was knocked out of him. Ignoring the latest burst of pain, Jess rolled on to his side and continued to roll away from where he hoped the lumbering giant was. As quickly as his ragged, painful breathing would allow, Jess twisted himself onto his knees and pushed, shakily to his feet. Without giving pause for thought, he set off once more for the door, in a mad dash. Round the table, his hands grasped for where the back of the couch was.
Clyde, however, was not far behind. Back on his feet and angry beyond words now, he stumbled forwards.
On hearing him so close behind, Jess' mind had frozen in a sudden moment of sheer panic. In the darkness, his hands fumbled blindly for where he gauged the back of the couch would be and through his mounting palpitations, he could almost have cried when his desperately searching fingers couldn't find it. Where was it? It was around here somewhere! He had to be going in the right direction! How could an apartment so god damn small be so difficult to escape?!
He was breathing heavily, almost wheezing – so loudly he was sure it could be heard down the block. Jess' heart thumped rapidly and heavily in his chest, threatening to burst its way through at any moment.
"You shouldn't have done that, boy!" Clyde snapped. "God damn it, kid – you just don't think, do you? Now you know what I'm going to have to do to you now, don't you? You do remember, don't you?"
With almost preternatural precision, he shot out one hand into the night. It connected with its target immediately, clamping itself around the back of Jess' neck. The teenager gripped wildly at it, clawing the fingers holding him in place, but to no avail.
"Get off me!" he yelled, desperately, aware of how futile pleading was and hating himself for having to stoop that low. His voice sounded high and rasping as the air to his lungs was constricted. The tears were welling in his eyes but he would not let them fall. "What the hell do you want with me, man? I've done nothing to you or Liz! Just leave me the hell alone! I won't tell anyone that you were here."
The man laughed. "And just who do you think's going to give a damn about a worthless piece of crap like you, anyway?"
Jess bit his tongue to save himself the pain his retort would have caused him. Besides, he acknowledged with a sinking heart, it was probably true. His uncle was no-where to be found and it wasn't like the rest of the town's folk would be launching a search and rescue party for him. Hell, they'd probably have a block party when he left. Given a day or so and Luke would come to realise what a relief it was to get back to the way things were before. Before he came along and starting screwing their perfect little lives up. But that sure as hell didn't mean he wanted to go back home!
Clyde laughed again. "Now Liz, on the other hand, she seems to have come over all maternal."
Now, despite the dire situation, it was Jess' turn to laugh. Clyde gave his neck a rough shake, rattling his head.
"That's enough out of you!" he warned. "She's your mother and you're going to show her the proper respect. You pull any of that crap you used to do back home and I'll have you in pieces, Christmas or not. You got that?!" He shook him again and dealt a swift blow to his stomach, for good measure. It landed with a dull, heavy thud. Jess doubled over, as much as the grip around his neck would allow him to and grunted in pain. Apparently, Clyde took that as suitable response because he nodded, satisfied.
When he had regained the ability to speak, Jess asked another pressing question. "Where's Luke? What did you do?" Though he couldn't see him, he felt Clyde shrug and could detect the honesty behind his words.
"He left. Nothing to do with me. Left every door unlocked as he went then took off." He sneered down at the boy. "Yeah – he obviously gives a damn about you, that one does. And I'll just bet he secured all his valuables first!"
Jess ignored him and the stinging in his heart. Well why the hell should Luke give a damn about him, he realised. It's not like he'd been particularly nice and his own mother couldn't care less and she had more reason to do so than Luke did!
Jess knew he wasn't the easiest person to get along with but he had also accepted, sometime around his ninth birthday that there were just some people in life who were unlovable. There wasn't anything they could do to change it – no sense of humour, no good deeds, no hard work at school: it wasn't their fault, it's just who they were. And once Jess had accepted that, like a medical condition, he was also unlovable, it made his life a lot less painful.
Stars Hollow had made him weak. Luke had made him weak, had made him for a moment, lose sight of this. However much he despised Clyde's visit, it was good that he was reminded of it. It doesn't pay to forget who and what you are.
"You can tell Liz," he ground out, "that she'll have to make do with her vodka for Christmas. She had her chance for me to come home and she didn't take it." And on saying that, Jess took one last attempt at freedom, ramming his elbow backwards into the man's solar plexus. Reflectively, he released his grip on Jess and the boy spun around and swung his fist in a wide arc. It connected sharply with the older man's jaw with a satisfying crack, causing the gibbon to stumble backwards. Jess grinned. He may never win the fights, but damn it felt good to get a hit in once in a while!
Clyde recovered quickly and swung his own punch, catching the boy square in the face and whipping his head round to the side. This time, Clyde didn't give him a chance to recover. He wanted to get out of there, he needed to get the kid in the car. He came for him again, shouldering in to Jess' chest and slamming him in to the wall. Several pictures crashed to the floor as Jess impacted with the plaster. Pain spread across his back like fire. He gasped. A blow to his stomach followed then another. Jess lunged forwards to the hulking form but he was only caught before he could make a connection and thrown across the room again. This time he landed heavily on the table, knocking it onto its side as he fell, sending the contents all over the floor.
Panting heavily, clutching his side, Jess glanced up, too weak to move. A fit of harsh, wracking coughs suddenly overcame him as he struggled to breathe. The tears of exertion streamed unbidden down his face.
Clyde stood over him, leaning down. He couldn't move. Even if he wanted to, Jess simply didn't have the energy left. With a moment of quiet acceptance, he saw Clyde draw back his foot, aimed directly for his head. And though he didn't want to admit to fear, in the darkness he thought it wouldn't matter: the boy closed his eyes so that he wouldn't see the boot fall. Then he waited.
However, instead of the rush of air and the sickening crack of impact he had been expecting, there came instead a cry of anguish from above him and the flooding of light to the previously dark room. His eyes screwed shut from the sudden blinding sensation. From over head, he could hear Clyde stumble away from him and then the sound of fist meeting jaw for the second time. He opened his eyes amazed and stunned to see Luke standing there with an expression so murderous and cold it didn't belong on his benevolent, fumbling uncle.
Still too pained to get to his feet, Jess kicked backwards with his legs until he had scrambled out of the way. He watched in fascinated horror as Clyde ran to his uncle, attempting to push him off balance. His heart was in his mouth. Luke was a small town guy: he didn't have a chance against someone like Clyde. Luke owned a diner for pity's sake! He didn't have a prayer. But as he watched, a look of wonder began to cross his face. Clyde may have had the size but Luke wasn't too unevenly matched, nor in strength. But above all else, it was Luke's determination and anger that seemed to propel him to the front of this fight.
"Jess!" his uncle snapped, eyes still trained on the intruder. "Get out of here, now!"
Jess almost laughed. Screw that! Like he was letting Luke fight this on his own! He may not be much, but Jess also knew he could be a backup, if needed. And this was too good to miss. He stayed where he was, scrambling a little further back as Clyde almost fell across his path when Luke sent another blow across his chin.
Jess could hardly believe it and felt his face crack in to a smile. This couldn't be his uncle!
"Jess!!" Luke growled and the kid was suddenly taken aback by the anger in his voice. "I said get the hell out – now!"
"This is nothing to do with you!" Clyde managed to gasp, addressing Luke for the first time. His opponent hadn't been as easy to overcome as he had originally thought and the grizzled man realised he was going to have to start talking. "I just want the kid. Liz wants him – she's his mother for God's sake." He saw Luke pause, still poised for the next strike but obviously prepared to hear his explanation. His curiosity was, after all, only marginally lower than his instinct to protect his nephew. That came above everything.
Seeing the uncle pause, Clyde pressed on. "Liz just wants to see him. That's all. He wasn't cooperating. Little punk - you know what he's like. I don't want any trouble with you – I just want him."
"Well then you've got trouble with me," Luke answered, voice rising. He glanced down at his nephew who, he noticed with increasing anger and concern, still had not moved despite having a clear access to the door. He was sat against the far wall, just behind the towering form of his attacker. Luke was facing them, back to the door. God damn that kid – he just wanted him out of the way!
He had been almost half way to Lorelai's when he had realised he had forgotten his flashlight. Not trusting her to have one to hand, Luke had turned around and headed for home, grumbling all the way about the favours he was going to be owed when this was over. When he first re-entered the diner, nothing appeared out of the ordinary but the first crash and cry from upstairs had, momentarily, stopped his heart in his chest. With a chilling realisation, Luke remembered the unlocked doors and his sleeping nephew. He had taken the stairs, two at a time until he was on the landing.
Looking in through the open door, Luke could see that the apartment was a mess. He had no idea what the man wanted – the obvious place to rob would have been the diner downstairs. But when he saw his boy on the floor, holding his sides in agony and prepared for a final blow to fall, Luke had been struck by sudden epiphany that there was something more valuable than money he now had for others to take. And it felt both wonderful and terrifying all at the same time.
He didn't even remember moving across the floor, only landing the blow that sent this intruder flying backwards.
And now he knew why. Liz wanted him back. Now – Christmas fricken Eve, she wanted him back. Well no way. No way in hell and after tonight, never again.
"You can tell my sister," he began, in a quiet, steely voice, "that she had her chance. She blew it – just like always. Now get the hell out of my home!"
That's when Jess saw it. The back pocket of his jeans, blade glinting wickedly in the light, it remained unnoticed by his uncle. The events seemed to unfold in slow motion for Jess. As the two men talked, he could see Clyde's hand surreptitiously sliding back, fingers grazing the handle. The knife had slipped into his hand like opposing magnets. The man took one step towards his uncle and Jess was on his feet before he even knew what he was doing.
"Luke! Look out!" His uncle's eyes widened in surprise at his nephew's unexpected movement and he cried out a warning, futilely as he saw where the boy was headed. No sooner had Clyde thrust the knife forward between he and Luke then Jess was in front of him, intercepting its path and grabbing the hand that held it, pushing it up above their heads as he struggled, tugging one way and the other, to dislodge it.
"Jess!" Instantly, Luke was there and the extra pressure on Clyde's hand from the man rather than the boy, forced him to loosen his grip. The knife clattered to the floor and Luke kicked it away. It skidded across the wooden floor and came to rest, uselessly, under the couch.
Luke could see Clyde make a last ditch approach towards Jess and, roughly, Luke took a hold of Jess' shirt and pushed him aside. He stumbled back and landed on the couch. With Luke distracted, Clyde decided he had done more than enough. Not even Liz was worth this trouble. A hard shove to his chest send the diner owner back a few paces and gave Clyde the moment he needed to make an about turn and run. Uncle and nephew instantly heard him clattering down the stairs and crashing through the diner.
Jess watched as Luke went for the phone and his eyes widened in surprise.
"Luke?" he asked but Luke ignored him, lifting the receiver. "Uncle Luke!" Luke paused and turned to his nephew. "What are you doing?" Jess wondered, worry lacing his voice.
"What do you mean?" he snapped. "I'm calling the police." But when he registered Jess' fearful, hesitant expression, he stopped. And then he thought about it.
"It's Liz, Uncle Luke," Jess said, quietly.
Luke was torn. "Jess, he attacked you."
"But she sent him. I know she didn't mean it and…well, she kind of is my mother. Your sister. You call the cops on him, you could implicate her."
Luke thought about it, very reluctantly and soon his hand began to shake with rage and frustration. "God damn that woman!" He slammed the phone back so hard in its cradle, Jess was sure it would break. And then he stopped and looked at his nephew and every ounce of fear and fury came surfacing in one go. He could have been killed. He told him to get out: he told him! And what did he do? Did he go? Did he? No, he goes and leaps in front of knife! Of all the stupid, idiotic things…could have been damned well killed!
When Jess saw the rage in Luke's eyes, he shrank back into the couch cushions. He watched in trepidation as his uncle stormed over to him. With one fist, Luke grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and hauled him up off the couch.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" he screamed, grabbing him firmly by both arms and giving him a non-too gentle shake. Jess was so taken aback that he barely even registered the pain.
"I don't know what you mean?" he protested and then winced. At that moment, he could have sworn Luke was going to hit him. He didn't know why but he could take a guess. The apartment was a mess – table knocked over, pictures broken, not to mention the tree taking up half the floor. And this was his fault, his mother's boyfriend sent to collect him. Even when he didn't mean to, he caused nothing but trouble to this previously quiet little town. He squared his jaw and glanced away, mentally preparing for the blow.
But the blow never came. When he apprehensively looked up, he could see his uncle fighting an internal battle, obviously struggling to control his warring emotions. The man's strong jaw was grinding away and his eyes were hard and cold. Jess waited, uncertain of what he could do that wouldn't provoke him. A small, childish part of him wanted to be reassured that everything was going to be all right. But the grown up part of him realised that it probably wasn't. He may actually have just blown his last chance.
Looking at his nephew, Luke forced his anger back down, at least to a more manageable level. All he wanted to do was protect the kid – why did he have to make his job so damned difficult? Jess was staring at his bare feet, reminding Luke of a much younger, less secure nephew. A part of him wanted to hold him but another part was still just too angry.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, quietly, mentally kicking himself when he realised that should have been his first question and he sure as hell shouldn't have been shaking his nephew! God, what was wrong with him? He didn't deserve to be parent, at this rate.
As he spoke, Luke knelt in front of him and gently took Jess' head in his hands. With the impression that he knew what he was doing, Luke ran his hands across Jess' face and head, assessing for injuries. He looked in to his eyes, ghosted his fingers across the bruise forming on the boy's cheek. His jaw tightened. How dare Liz send a psycho like that to his home? How could she allow anyone to hurt this kid like that? No one got to hurt him! No one – never again. Not for the first time, he reconsidered his decision to let the bastard go.
On seeing the returning anger to Luke's expression, Jess knew not to push his luck and screw the evening up any more. "I'm fine," he muttered, willing the pain in his side to subside.
His breathing had been laboured since the second blow to his chest and Jess had been silently struggling to respire easily through the pain. He'd hoped it was a temporary discomfort. Now, hearing the air strain to wheeze in and out of his lungs, he wasn't so sure. But it could wait, he decided firmly. It wasn't important, at least not right now. He would be fine, he was sure. Given some rest and a few painkillers, he'd be good as new. He'd survived a lot worse, after all. From where he knelt in front of him, Luke raised a sceptical eyebrow.
"Honestly," Jess pressed. "A few bruises here and there but I'll live." And Luke seemed to consider this for a moment. Finally, he seemed to relent. He grunted and rose to his feet, moving to the freezer. He returned with an ice pack and pressed it to Jess' face, instructing him to keep it there. Eager not to rock the boat any further, Jess complied.
"Stay there," Luke muttered. "I'm going to make a phone call." From the couch, Jess nodded and watched as his uncle grabbed the phone and moved it as far as he could to the other side of the room. Once there, he dialled a number by heart and waited with a thudding heart until it was answered.
"Lorelai?" he asked, quietly, willing his voice not to crack. "I…I need you."
Okay – I'm going to try and get the last chapter out in the next couple of days. Again, please, please drop me a quick note to let me know what you thought. I really do appreciate it and it helps propel me into writing, more easily :-) Take care now!